Doing God’s work…?

The last couple of years I’ve heard a number of people say that they believe that Donald Trump won the presidency because that’s where God placed him…that he has been anointed by God…that he is indeed a follower of Jesus.

So I have a couple of questions for those of you who believe this. I’m serious in asking these questions.

  • How does his life show that he is a follower of Jesus?
  • What exactly is he doing that is God’s work?

Here’s the problem I have. I know that God uses flawed human beings–I’ve heard this statement a lot when questions have been raised about Trump. But Jesus said that “by their fruits you will know whether people are my followers” (my paraphrase)–and the “fruits” I see don’t correlate with how I see followers of Jesus.

This is just a partial list of the issues I have with the claim that Trump is God’s anointed, placed in the presidency to do God’s work:

  • His life shows a lack of the basic morality followers of Jesus show (i.e., multiple affairs, cheating on each of his wives with the woman who became his next wife).
  • Through the years he has “stiffed” those who have done work at many of his properties–refusing to pay bills and leaving many of those who have worked for him struggling to pay their debts.
  • He has refused to listen to the advice and counsel of those with training and experience in scientific, political and military affairs, often overriding their counsel with negative results.
  • He has insulted our allies and cozied up to and with dictators, expressing appreciation for how they run their countries.
  • He has demonized specific ethnic and religious groups, calling immigrants “invaders, thugs, rapists.”
  • Even though he promised to support members of the LGBT!+ communities, his policies are removing protections for them and leaving them vulnerable.
  • At his rallies, he accuses those who don’t agree with him as being “enemies of the people.”
  • He constantly accuses the mainstream news of being “fake news.”
  • When someone disagrees with him at a rally, he encourages calls of “throw them out” or “lock them up.”
  • He has surrounded himself with individuals who have been charged–and in some cases, already found guilty–of corruption in various forms.
  • His cabinet appointees, in many cases, are individuals whose stated purpose is to do away with the very departments they are tasked with running.
  • He created a policy that separated children from their families without keeping track of them or plans to reunite them…families that were already vulnerable because they were fleeing violence.
  • His priorities–as shown in his proposed budget–cut programs that aid the most vulnerable among us.
  • One of his big focuses is on building a wall of separation, when Jesus worked to tear down walls.

So how does any of this correlate with Jesus’ call to take care of the vulnerable? to live a moral life? to love others and to treat the stranger in our midst as we would want to be treated?

How does this correlate with God’s work? I just don’t get it.

 

Into the desert

Somehow it seems appropriate that during this season of Lent I feel at times like I am in the desert.

Last Sunday’s lectionary scripture was about Jesus going into the desert after his baptism for a time of preparation that included testing. His response to those tests helped him know whether he was ready to begin his ministry.

I’m not really sure why I feel like I’m in the desert. I don’t think I’m facing any specific tests…although perhaps I am. Just not the specific kinds of tests that Jesus faced.

Part of what I’m facing is the need to let go of the desire to “fix” people…to make them conform to my expectations. That’s not really a bad thing, if those expectations include decisions that would lead to healthy living…but I have to allow them to make their own decisions if they are going to become who they have the potential of becoming. I may cringe at some of those decisions (and I do), but it’s not my responsibility to “fix” them. I can guide and offer suggestions, but ultimately I have to let them go.

Another part of what I’m facing is my frustration with the gap I see at times between what people say they believe and what words and actions show. I’m guilty of this as well, I know–and so I need to offer grace. I think, though, the challenge I face is between giving grace–and calling out the gap when it is harmful to others.

And I know that there are still some tender places that need to continue to heal from past experiences. Being in the desert forces me to face them…forces me to consider my own role in those experiences. It’s not necessarily pleasant, but it’s important for me to acknowledge that fault in those situations is not one-sided.

I’ve been in the desert before, and I’ll probably be there again. So I know that I will emerge from this experience stronger than I was before…more prepared for ministry opportunities that may be coming my way.

But it still doesn’t mean that going into the desert is fun.

It’s not. But it’s an essential part of the spiritual journey.

woman wearing purple hooded jacket sitting on rock

Photo by Pete Johnson on Pexels.com

Why do I write?

There are several answers to the title question, and they change from time to time. However, my current reason for writing this blog is to give folks a different perspective of someone who claims to be a Christian from the vocal view that seems to dominate so much of our society today.

While I realize that there are different ways of understanding what it means to follow the one we call Jesus the Christ, I find some of the current interpretations in direct opposition to the teachings of the Jesus I know.

That Jesus was inclusive. His circle of friends and followers included people that other religious people thought should be excluded for various reasons. Even some of his own disciples weren’t particularly fond of some of the others!

He was willing to challenge the status quo and to upset tradition. Quite often people said to him, “Well, Moses said…” in an attempt to keep things the way they were. And his response was “Well, yes, Moses did say…but say…”

He didn’t hold grudges. Even when he was dying a cruel death, he forgave the ones who put him on the cross.

And when he was asked what the most important law was, he said it was the law of love. Love of God, love of others, love of self. Everything that I read and understand about Jesus is captured in that perspective.

And because the Jesus of inclusivity, of reconciliation, of continued growth is the Jesus I choose to follow…the form of Christianity I believe he asks us to follow…I choose to try to live through the lens of love. Do I always succeed? No…but I keep trying.

And because that Jesus of inclusivity and reconciliation is the one I choose to follow, I want you to know that I believe there is a place at the table for you. We may have some challenging discussions…we will not always agree…but you are invited to join with me in this journey of living life through the lens of love.

“God has a plan”…

Several times I’ve heard people say “Well, God has a plan for you”…

Sorry, but I don’t agree.

Saying that God has plan for you implies that there is only one way of getting to a particular point that is acceptable to God…and I don’t buy that.

It’s like climbing mountains. Often there are multiple ways of climbing that will get you to the top.

If God has a plan for us, I believe it’s for us to enter into a loving relationship with the Divine that will help us become what we have been created to be…and there are multiple ways to develop that relationship.

We were created with the ability to make choices…to make decisions for ourselves. Not to be puppets.

I believe God wants us to use the minds we were created with…and I also believe that God will bless our journeys.

I know the path I have chosen to take–and it is the right path for me at this time. It has had twists and turns, some of them caused by decisions I have made, some by situations beyond my control. Early in my life I could have said that I was sure of God’s plan for me…but as I’ve gotten older, what I am sure of is that God’s plan is for me to come to know of God’s love for me and to fulfill the potential within me…and that how I get there is not as important as continuing the journey.

So maybe…just maybe…God does have a plan for each of us–and that plan is to continue our journey to a closer relationship with the Divine, no matter the path.

What color is your world?

My world used to be black and white. There was a right answer and a wrong answer. There was a right way to do things and a wrong way. There was one right way to believe and everything–and everyone–else was wrong.

It was an easy and a comfortable way to live.

I didn’t have to struggle with ambiguity. I could make quick and easy judgments…based on what I knew was right.

But then I began to get acquainted with people who believed differently from me–but who lived in what I knew was the right way.

I met people from different countries and discovered that even though we differed on politics and sometimes religion, we had a lot in common.

I became friends with people whose loved differently than I did…who loved people of the same sex. And I met others whose seemingly obvious birth gender didn’t match with their internal gender.

I began to listen to scientists who caused me to question some of my earlier simplistic beliefs.

And my world changed colors.

blue green and red abstract illustration

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Pexels.com

It was no longer just two colors. It began to be filled with bright, beautiful colors–colors of the rainbow.

Sometimes I miss my easy and comfortable way of living–but then I look around and realize that all the colors make my life exciting and beautiful…just as I believe God created life to be.

Love the sinner…

The last few days I’ve heard variations of this statement: “Love the sinner but hate the sin.” I used to like that saying–I thought it acknowledged the worth of someone, even if I disagreed with their behavior.

I don’t like it any more.

I’ve come to realize that when I say it, I’m placing myself in a situation of judging someone else…deciding that whatever sins I have are somehow less than the sins I see in someone else. And Jesus had some rather harsh words about that!

“Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get. Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ while the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye.” – Matthew 7:1-5

I no longer want to judge someone else’s walk with the Divine.

I want to change the statement. In a lot of ways I had already shortened it in my mind to the first three words: “love the sinner.”

But I think it’s important now to shorten it even more–to one word: “love.” That seems to be the key word in all the words and actions of the One I claim to follow.

Love.

It really is that simple. Judging isn’t my responsibility; loving is. If my loving actions can help someone else know that they are beloved children of God, then I can leave it to God to help them live the best life possible. I can help provide an example…I can answer questions…I can walk with someone. But I don’t need to judge.

Bridging the gap?

Individuals in many faith traditions are struggling with this question: How do we share and worship together in our diversity, still holding to our own personal beliefs while engaging with others who may believe differently? How do we build bridges? This guest post articulates those concerns. I share the desire to bridge the gap between myself and others whom I like but have significant disagreements with…but I also find myself wondering if that is still possible.

I have kept this close for a while now, these feelings and thoughts haunting my waking hours and shading how my eyes see the others in my life.  I was once asked by a friend and fellow Christian, to give space for their beliefs and interpretation, to not let my own view push theirs out or away.  I agreed with the validity of the point and their life experience and have attempted to do so over the last few years.  We have engaged on a number of topics and have found many points of agreement, even as we continue to disagree on many others.

However…

As our country and our shared faith has undergone tremendous change and stress over the last few years the gulf between us has continued to grow, despite (or maybe because of) our efforts to keep the bridge open and together.  I do not claim, nor can I know for sure their thoughts, and do not mean to put words into their mouth or intentions behind the actions I see, that is for them to share.  But for myself I am feeling less and less like there is room in our relationship for my way of being and believing.  As we have shared it has seemed (to me) to become less about listening to each other and more about being pressed to agree.  It does not matter who started it, I’m not even sure I could say for sure if I had to, and both of us are guilty of it at times.  But as their position has solidified, the ground between us has continued to move us apart and now, when I stretch out my hand, our fingers no longer touch and I can’t help but be saddened by that fact.  And wonder what has happened and if it’s even possible to cover the distance any more.  And this friend is not the only one this has happened with.

Social media has may positives, but in so many ways, I am not convinced it does anything to improve our lives or our communities.  I have trouble reconciling the people I see on Facebook with the people I see in church, at work, on the street.  For several, including the one mentioned above, I have to wonder that if they really believe what they post, how on earth do they tolerate being around me?  And then that questioning filters into how I interpret our physical interactions… and I wonder.  I also question how I can continue to be an ally to the poor, the oppressed, the marginalized, and still want to maintain “peace” with those who refuse to see how our actions continue to hurt people of color, the LGBT+ community, etc.  Am I really an ally then?

Martin Luther King Jr’s words continue to haunt me – “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”

I no longer wish to be silent but I do not know what words to speak.  My prayer is that whatever words I use, may they be spoken in support of justice and love, of the Shalom of the peaceable kingdom, and of the worth of each person, even if those words require me to speak up in ways I find uncomfortable or even scary.